


drawing ever farther together (find us closer apart)

by silentOrator



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:00:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentOrator/pseuds/silentOrator
Summary: They were on the same side in the snake pit, only neither of them knew it. For all anyone knew, they were all alone in the world.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: HP UnHappily Ever After Fest 2019





	drawing ever farther together (find us closer apart)

_When the war started it was not violent. There were no explosions or flashy battles. No deaths of prominent members of wizarding society nor any outright declarations of who was on which side. Instead, when the war first started, very few people even knew there was a war going on and only the faintest whispers of the conspiracies intrigue and betrayals reached the general public. _

_The Dark Lord was not waging an outright battle for people to notice and protest but instead beginning by desensitizing wizarding Britain to the death of the undesirables, muggles, the muggle-borns and the blood traitors who no one would protest or even miss. _

_Still, today our story is not about the Dark Lord and his insidious ascent to the seat of power. It is instead about two young boys, who were, in their own special way, the best of friends. _

```

**October 1976 **

There was something intoxicating about having the attention of the Dark Lord focused on you Regulus thought to himself as he floated lazily above the quidditch pitch. He was hypnotic and between his silky voice and his deep eyes, he could pull you in and make you feel like you were the most important person in the room. Regulus had only directly met the man once but he, snape and the other boys had regularly attended the Junior DE meetings.

As he looped around in another figure eight he spotted the boy he had been waiting for hurrying toward the pitch and drifted downwards. It was a pity Severus didn’t like to fly, it had been too long since Regulus had had the chance to be up in the air, especially since stupid Dumbledore had canceled the quidditch season because of the threats against the mudbloods.

“Snape,” Regulus said dismounting smoothly before tripping over his feet in his rush to reach the older boy who had started rolling up his sleeve. “Did you get it? How was it?”

Snape cocked an eyebrow at Regulus. “Excitement. How Hufflepuff of you.” 

Regulus scoffed and stepped back. “Fine. don’t show me.” He attempted to raise his own eyebrow back at Severus who was now smirking, “It’s not like you are excited to show it off either”

The older boy didn't reply but finished rolling up his left sleeve before answering Regulus’s previous questions. 

“It was painful but...” his customary sneer for once replaced with awe and reverence, “bewitching”

The boys talked for hours.

```

The war was all anyone talked about nowadays. Anywhere you went in the castle people were talking about it in hushed whispers - Gryffindors foolishly boasting of a chance for glory, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs upset and Slytherin quietly proud to be on the side that would restore the wizarding world to its former glory. 

As Regulus swept around a corner and down the main staircase, a group of first years stopped whispering and huddled closer to the wall, looking fearfully up at him.

Regulus shot them a glare to get them to move on their way and then rolled his eyes as they scurried off. They had nothing to fear, they were purebloods and as they were only firsties they would be excused for their blood traitor families if they agreed to renounce their past. 

It was funny how everyone was now looking at the Slytherins like they were the second coming of Grindelwald. It's not like the war was anything new, Regulus had started hearing about the Dark Lord’s plans before he attended Hogwarts when Lord Riddle had come visiting the Black family to meet Sirius.

From the beginning, Sirius had spit in the Dark Lord's face, but, unlike his brother, far from being forced to attend those initial meetings, Regulus had been sitting quietly at his end of the table, listening eagerly so he would be prepared when Lord Voldemort returned the next year asking for him to be his messenger among the Slytherins. 

He had discussed a great and marvelous future he was building, working to free the ministry of anyone who didn't respect proper wizarding culture and promising to create a society where - and Regulus could still remember his deep, charming voice “young masters like you, Regulus Black, can explore the extent of your powers.”

Regulus exited the main doors of the castle, pulling his cloak closer around him and made his way towards the herbology greenhouses. He was working on a special project, developing a range of magical plants that were as venomous as the basilisk was rumored to be.

```

Christmas was rapidly approaching and while he normally went home for the holidays, this year Mother had written to Regulus telling him that she and father were going abroad and he should just stay with his brother at the castle. 

Stay with his brother? Regulus scoffed. Just last week Sirius and his cronies had chased him down the hallway pelting him with dung bombs. He has ended up running face-first into Professor McGonagall who had, of course, blamed him and not the Gryffindor bullies who had of course conveniently disappeared. He had to find out how they were appearing and disappearing so fast.

Severus had waited up for him after his detention. Usually, the older boy was aloof and haughty, the epitome of Slytherin coolness, but occasionally he could be comforting in his own gruff way. Severus had handed Regulus a towel as he came in dripping from washing out the owlery by hand and had, after he showered, snuck up to the kitchens with him to watch Regulus do his potions homework and point out mistakes over Regulus’s shoulder. 

“You are staying for winter break right?” he asked Severus as they re-entered the dungeons a couple of hours later. 

“No actually,” he said not turning to look at Regulus, “there is some business for me to take care of at home this year.”

“Oh” Regulus didn't know what else to say but by that time they had reached the common room door and both went their separate ways.

```

**December 1976**

Other than a handful of overexcited first years, Regulus was the only other Slytherin staying at the castle for the winter holidays. It was rather boring, he reflected as he wandered through the dungeon towards the library which had become his regular haunt.

Madam Pince had left for the Christmas break and the wards on the restricted section were only activated if any student tried to leave with a book. Regulus had become quite adept at sneaking past Hagrid at the main desk and was steadily working his way through the more advanced books on dark magic.

He had not yet had a chance to attend one of the Dark Lord’s meetings - those were reserved for full Death Eater’s only, but there was less than a year till he has to prove himself in the initiation ceremony and Regulus did not intend to be caught unawares.

Severus had told him that they were not allowed to share what happened during the Halloween initiation, only that they would have to prove themselves worthy of the honor of serving the Dark Lord, but Regulus knew that Severus had probably brewed one of the potions he had invented - he had some particularly nasty ones that the Dark Lord was sure to like. Severus had been particularly proud of the one that would simultaneously cause a mudblood’s blood to boil while still preserving their life - allowing them to be slowly tortured into insanity. 

Regulus wasn't as handy with potions as Severus was, no one could match his talent, but Regulus did have a talent for magical intuition and discerning the underpinnings of spells. He figured that if he learned enough dark magic now over the next semester and the summer he could dissect the spells and maybe combine or invent a few of his own. That was sure to impress his parents and the Dark Lord.

Regulus, lost in his musings had made it to the library. As usual, Hagrid was asleep at the desk and Regulus slipped into the back aisle and pulling Magick Moste Evile off the shelf, conjuring himself a cushion and settling in to read.

"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —"

Regulus frowned, for all his reading into dark magic he had never heard of Horcruxes, and they hadn’t been mentioned in any of the other library books - he had saved Magick Moste Evile for last. Regulus flipped to the index at the back of the book but there was no mention of Horcruxes anywhere else after that introductory page and he shelved the book and walked to the front of the library, frowning to himself.

“Mr. Hagrid, sir?” the sleeping groundskeeper woke with a snort and peered around until his eyes settled on Regulus.

“Ah, young master Black.” he sounded nervous, “how can I help you?”

Regulus internally rolled his eyes, clearly, Sirius had been telling Hagrid all sorts of stories about him. “I was wondering if it would be possible for me to call our family house-elf to Hogwarts, sir?” he asked bashfully.

Regulus paused for the effect, “I wanted to have him hide some Christmas gifts for my mother and didn't want her to see the owl.”

Hagrid looked surprised, “uh, hm, hrm.” he appeared to be thinking, “students don't usually have family elves, but I suppose it would be possible.” 

He peered at Regulus slightly suspiciously, “of course the headmaster would be notified, Professor Dumbledore knows everything that happens here at Hogwarts you know.”

“That's fine, thank you, sir,” Regulus said. Professor Dumbledore didn't really know everything that happened at Hogwarts, but neither Hagrid nor any of the teachers needed to know about that.

Regulus left the library, if he was quick about it, he could make it to the come and go room to call Kreacher before the house-elf started his lunch, and possibly the elf might be able to bring him some of the custard puffs that he liked.

```

“I need a kitchen. I need a kitchen. I need a kitchen” Regulus thought to himself as he walked back and forth in the seventh-floor corridor.

When he opened the door to the come and go room he smiled, it was just like their kitchen at the summer manor, bright, sunny window and long, low tables by the hearth fire.

Regulus sat at one of the tables, it wasn’t necessarily proper for the heir of the Black estate to be sitting in a kitchen but house-elves became particularly distressed if asked to sit at the table in the dining hall. And anyways, Regulus had been doing this since he was a boy and underfoot the elves anyway.

“Kreacher” he called and a minute later the house-elf appeared with a sharp crack.

“Good Master Regulus called?” he asked bowing, then straightening up he looked around, smiled, and disappeared again.

Regulus grinned, as he had hoped, he would be getting home food. 

The house-elf reappeared a couple of minutes later along with a picnic basket. He stepped up onto the bench across from Regulus and began to lay the table.

“Kreacher,” Regulus asked, “I need to know, are there any books in the Black family libraries that mention Horcruxes?”

```

Regulus was throwing up in the rose bushes under the astronomy tower. Kreacher had found him the books that the Black Library had on Horcruxes and he had snuck down to the private greenhouses to read them while caring for his serpentine tentacula. 

“Horcruxes are... vile” Regulus thought to himself gagging again at the mental images of murdering and defiling a corpse in order to create one. He had known it wouldn't be pleasant the moment he started reading the “after sacrifice’s death” steps but he hadn't been able to stop- it was like watching a slow-motion broomstick collision. 

“The Dark Lord is interested in repairing the nobility of the old culture, and the glory of wizardkind.” Regulus reasoned with himself, “there is no way this would impress him, it is too vile for even Lord Voldemort.”

Maybe he would present the Dark Lord with his basilisk enhanced tentacula; Regulus was working on increasing the potency of its venom now that he had got it to be mobile.

```

Severus found him when the holidays had ended, on the second-floor girls’ bathroom, sweating over his brew in one of the back stalls. 

The older boy leaned on the wall behind Regulus, he was somehow even thinner than usual and seemed both tired and yet, hardened. 

“Anything interesting?” Severus finally asked.

Regulus considered mentioning the Horcruxes, which had still occasionally been giving him nightmares but finally shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. 

There was no way he could put the weight of those actions into words, and, he would never admit this out loud, but the quiet company was nice in its own way. It was a kind of acceptance and companionship that he had been missing these past couple weeks and really, the past several years. 

```

**Summer 1977**

Regulus was the last of the Slytherins left in the dungeons, as he packed his trunk to head home for the summer. 

Sirius and his cronies had had to have some kind of meeting with the headmaster and it had delayed their leaving by a whole day.

As he was about to leave he noticed a book and an old but well maintained silver potions knife left on his desk that had definitely not been there yesterday. 

There was no title on the front but when he opened the cover the title page read Advanced Venom Distillation for the Amateur Potion Master by Guildmaster Gibblet Bagby. There was a note scrawled on the inside cover that said, “Bagby is an idiot but you might find this helpful. -SS”

Flipping through, Regulus smiled, Severus had heavily annotated the text, and he would bet his broomstick that the older boy had improved on everything the guild master had written.

This settled how he was going to spend his summer.

```

**September 1977**

The new first years standing in the middle of the great hall were looking around in wonder.

“I bet that one’s a mudblood” Severus whispered nudging Regulus’s elbow and nodding at a small first-year girl with pigtails and an upturned nose.

“Looks like a Hufflepuff” Regulus whispered back and Severus nodded. 

The hall fell silent as the headmaster stepped up to his gilded podium. “I would like to say a few words before we proceed with the sorting ceremony.” 

He was smiling and looking around the hall, but Regulus could tell he was avoiding looking at the Slytherins for too long. The war had been escalating and people were starting to feel on edge.

“Welcome, first years, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are very glad to have you here today and look forward to getting to know you over the next seven years. Though it may seem overwhelming or scary, Hogwarts is now your home.” He swept his arms out grandly.

“You will be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor-” there were loud hoots and cheers, “Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff” there was some whistling and light clapping from around the room, “or Slytherin” there was only a smattering of clapping from the Slytherin table, the rest of the houses were looking away awkwardly. “Your house members will be your friends, your family and the people who will be with you and support you in Hogwarts and beyond. And you can think of me, Professor Dumbledore as your odd, kindly grandpa… Now some reminders for our older students…”

Regulus tuned the headmaster out, the headmaster's speech was the same pointless drivel he talked about every year. The first years looked excited to be sorted into their “families” but at least a quarter of them would be coming to Slytherin and they were in for a nasty surprise. There was no family in the house of the snakes and the headmaster was definitely not a kindly older grandpa. The discrimination he leveraged against the snakes was legendary.

Regulus knew his brother, the Potter boy and their other cronies had been constantly tormenting Severus since their first year but the headmaster would never do anything to punish his precious Gryffindors. 

For the little snakes who would be joining them at the table tonight, Hogwarts would not be their home, it would be a training ground where they would learn they could never laugh with anyone, never have the comradery of the Gryffindors or the Hufflepuffs and never trust anyone - at most they would have uneasy truces with the other snakes who were equally ambitious and suspicious and thus honest in their dishonesty.

**Halloween 1977**

The wind and freezing rain whipped furiously around them as Regulus and Severus trudged up yet another hill toward the Dark Lords meeting spot in the forest of dean. Regulus slipped on a spot of mud and snape caught him by the elbow.

“Why are you shaking? Are you scared?” he teased, before shoving the younger boy away gently. 

“No I’m just cold,” Regulus retorted glaring at snape whose hair was plastered to his face, even more so than usual. “Walking in under anti-apparition wards take all the fun out of pledge day.” 

Snape hummed and shoved Regulus in the small of his back urging him onwards faster. The boys picked up their pace, they couldn’t be the last to arrive for the ceremony or there would be trouble.

Tonight was the night Regulus was finally going to officially pledge his loyalty to the Dark Lord and receive the mark of his fealty. 

Nobody just joined the Dark Lord’s Group, you had to have a sponsor to bring you to the meeting location and testify on your behalf. Severus had agreed to sponsor him in return for access to some of the potions texts from the Black family library. And regardless, between the Black family’s prestigious name longtime work as the Dark Lords advocate among the sixth year Slytherins he had basically been guaranteed a spot anyway.

They reached a clearing that seemed empty but as Regulus and Severus walked across some invisible barrier, they felt a drying rush of heat and the almost boiling presence from the huge bonfire in the center of the clearing. 

The Dark Lord nodded at them as the stepped up to take their spots in the inner circle. Regulus lowered his gaze, joking aside Regulus was nervous, he had heard whispers of terrible things about what happened to people who failed the Death Eater initiation. The last few boys and their sponsors arrived and then the meeting began.

Regular and dangerous were the first pair to be called up. 

"Severus, my faithful servant, who do you bring to me today?" Lord Voldemort hissed sibilantly.

"This is Regulus Black, second son, and heir to the honorable and ancient House of Black" Severus replied calmly, his hand on Regulus's shoulder.

"And why have you bought young Regulus Black here today?" 

There was a beautiful kind of formality to the rituals Regulus thought.

Snape subtly squeezed his shoulder and said, "My Lord, I have brought him here because I believe he is strong, clever, cunning and will be a worthy addition to your ranks."

Snape let go of his shoulder and stepped back, and the Dark Lord bared his teeth in a smile and drew his wand

"Prove your strength hair to the house of black-- _Crucio_."

Pain like none other hit Regulus and he sank to his knees, eyes screwed tightly shut but gritted his teeth and refused to scream out. He would not show any weakness.

After what felt like a small eternity the Dark Lord released the spell and lowered his wand. 

"Severus, you are correct, Black is strong. Stand, heir, and prove your clever cunning."

Regulus's whole body protested as he shakily got to his feet. The roaring fire no longer felt welcoming, he felt like he was being stifled, but he wet his lips and pulled the shrunken box with his serpentine tentacula from his pocket.

As he re enlarged the box and plant, Regulus said, "My Lord, for your use, I have cultured the most useful plant." 

He waved his wand over the pot and the Temecula came erupting forward and slithered off its base and around the circle of Death Eaters. 

"I have mobilized the venomous tentacula and also distilled its venom. This new serpentine tentaculum can move like a snake, burrow in the ground and its venom has a potency equal to that of the basilisk of legend."

There was a wave of shuffling as the Death Eaters tried to subtly shift their feet away.

"How does it grow?"

Regulus had been anticipating this, and turned and cast, cleanly slicing the tentacula in half. The plant paused for a minute then the back half grew a head and they both started moving again, now circling in opposite directions.

Regulus turned back to the Dark Lord who was looking at the plant with renewed interest. "If injured the tentacula will regrow and double. If uninjured every two weeks the tentacula will hibernate for a day and split in half." He paused.

"If it pleases my Lord I have found a mudblood to use to demonstrate the efficacy of the venom. I can go and collect it." 

The Dark Lord inclined his head and Regulus felt the apparition barrier lift. He apparated back to the spot in the forest where he had left a mudblood lady bound and gagged against a tree. When she saw him reappear, screamed and then started crying again, clearly trying to beg him to let her go from behind her gag.

“Shut up, SHUT UP” he yelled, kicking her in the ribs. The lady fell silent, Regulus’s head was pounding from the cruciatus and the heat of the clearing, and he had to focus. This was the most important night of his life.

“Mobilicorpus” Regulus cast, bringing the woman to her feet and, grabbing her elbow, he disapparated back to the clearing. 

She screamed when she saw the robed, hooded figures, and then screamed again, louder as the tentaculas began to chase her around the clearing.

```

Later that night, as Regulus tiredly fell into bed, he was filled with an uncharacteristic joy; he felt windswept from his and Severus’s broom ride back, his cheeks were aching from laughing, and the burn on his arm had faded to a pleasant sting. 

The Dark Lord had been suitably impressed by his venomous tentacula, and when everyone had finally stopped laughing at the mudblood getting chased by the tentacula the Dark Lord had asked him to kneel and had given him the mark. 

It was as close to a perfect evening as Regulus could imagine.

```

**Winter 1977**

Regular Death Eater meetings were just as exciting as Regulus imagined they would be; Regulus was excited by the idea that he was helping restore the glory of the old wizarding culture. Currently, the Dark Lord had devised a map of magical Britain and they were going through hitting the muggle villages on their weekly raids and it had become the highlight of Regulus’s week getting to go flying with the Death Eaters. 

The only thing that had been less than ideal in the months since he had joined the Death Eaters was that Snape had been growing increasingly distant. Whereas before they would meet and study together or talk about their plans on how to impress the Dark Lord, Snape had become increasingly withdrawn and now Regulus never saw him except for when they were seated next to each other at meetings and when why would share the same apparition points coming and going. 

At this most recent meeting, the Dark Lord has been talking about how he had been exploring the magic of immortality and how he had apparently gone beyond where any wizard had ever gone. Regulus wasn’t exactly sure what the Darklord was talking about but he had planned on reading up on immortality magic when he got back home.

He was about to follow Severus out when leaving when Voldemort called for him. 

“Regulus, my boy, stay for a minute, I have something to ask of you.” Regulus and Severus both paused at the doorway bit the Dark Lord waved his hand dismissing Severus.

“I want to speak to you alone,” he said quietly, his voice full of promises. Regulus tried to meet snape's eyes, but the other boy glared before sweeping off. 

As he was looking after Snape, wondering when they had stopped trusting each other, Regulus didn't see the Dark Lord’s satisfied smile.

```

**Fall 1978**

The start of Regulus’s seventh year was turning out to be a quiet one. After Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, and Severus had graduated, Regulus found himself with a lot of time on his hands, he was no longer scheming with the older boys or helping cover for them when they got into trouble with his brother Potter, Pettigrew and Lupin. The war was finally in full swing and the student population was the lowest it had been in decades. The halls were empty and uncharacteristically silent what with everyone subdued by the war and also the golden four as they had been known and their staunch, Slytherin rivals all graduated.

Regulus had also stopped going out on the weekends. After a year of flying with the Dark Lord he had finally tired of the midnight raids - Regulus was already sleep-deprived enough from studying for his NEWTs and he had stepped back from the active fight.

Instead, Regulus had also taken to helping the senior Death Eaters in their work to infiltrate the ministry and oust the corrupt mudbloods and half-bloods from their positions. While he was still too young to actually be going and lobbying in the Wizengamot as he had not yet come of age but his position as the Heir to the house of Black gave him enough standing to get information from the inside that he could pass on. 

Going to the Death Eater meetings had also lost some of its appeal. When Regulus had joined he had been convinced that the Dark Lord would bring back the ascension of wizardkind and the nobility and chivalry of old. But really at the meetings, Voldemort had become increasingly frantic in his infiltration attempts. He was talking less about politics and making a change to the wizarding culture and more about how they needed to attack Dumbledore who he claimed was the stronghold of the other side and how they were all simply beasts waiting for the slaughter.

Regulus wasn't convinced. They would probably win more people over to their cause if they had actual information and rhetoric. In the old days, the natural order with pureblood wizards had ensured that lesser creatures were taken care of, but all the Dark Lord's speeches degraded and mocked the beings purebloods were meant to use their power to save, teach and protect.

“There is no point in saying anything, you just have to grin and bear it for now.” Regulus thought to himself, “it is more trouble than it is worth to protest”. While he may have had his doubts about the Dark Lord’s methods, they were still moving in approximately the right direction, and perhaps when purebloods were once again in control, someone more morally minded and… sane… could take over as minister. Protesting or speaking out against the Dark Lord now would only cause more trouble.

It was thoughts like these that made Regulus miss Snape more than ever. The older boy had been prickly but he had always been willing to listen to Regulus reason through his thoughts while snape worked on whatever potion he was inventing. 

Still, even if he and snape had still been friends, Regulus couldn’t have told him about these thoughts - they were basically treason against the Dark Lord. Snape was a good Death Eater and he would have, friend or not, turned Regulus over immediately to get ahead and win some favor with Voldemort. 

Like it or not, Regulus was alone and having doubts in the middle of the snake’s pit.

```

**Spring 1979**

Regulus’s chest heaved as he rested head on the bed on which he had laid Kreacher to heal him. It was only by a stroke of luck had Kreacher not died - had Regulus not called the house-elf just when he did, Kreacher would have been trapped in that cave to die and join the inferi.

Regulus couldn't even remember what he had called the house elf for all those hours ago, but when he had appeared, pale, bleeding out of hundreds of scratches, and fainting in Regulus’s arms, he had grabbed the elderly elf and ran for the room of requirement, sprinting back and forth in the corridor, feverishly begging for a fully stocked infirmary. 

It had been touch or go for a while, but as Kreacher had recovered his strength he haltingly told Regulus of how Riddle had taken him to a cave, forced him to drink an emerald green poison that he had called the drink of despair so he could leave behind a locket, and then left Kreacher to die at the hands of the “monstrous pale wizard corpses”.

It was too much, Regulus, who was exhausted from the healing and the thought that he had almost lost his childhood companion finally fell into a fitful sleep. He would think more about what it meant and what he was to do about it tomorrow.

```

Regulus paced back and forth across the room of requirement which he had conjured to look like his old bedroom. Kreacher was sitting in the corner watching him, weak but thankfully still alive. 

Riddle had asked Regulus to let him use Kreacher at the last Death Eater meeting a week before and he had agreed, not knowing Riddle’s purpose but trusting that he would have some respect for the creature that had faithfully served the house of black. 

Now, Regulus was sure the locket Voldemort had deposited in the Drink of Despair basin was a Horcrux. 

“Describe the locket again for me,” he told Kreacher stopping in front of the house elf’s stool.

“It was heavy and gold looking,” Kreacher mumbled, “it had a fancy green S on the front and it felt like old magic.” the house-elf paused, “but bad magic, it felt like bad magic too.”

“Hmm..” Regulus nodded and went back to pacing. He hadn't been certain before, back when he had first joined the Death Eaters, but it was clear in retrospect that all of Riddle’s talk of going “further than any other wizard” in the pursuit of immortality had meant that he was planning on making a Horcrux. 

This was the last of the proof Regulus needed. It was clear that Riddle was not the visionary leader he had once believed him to be. The ‘Dark Lord’ was clearly a crazy, cold-blooded killer with no respect for the old ways or any life other than his own. 

“He clearly doesn't think anyone else knows what a Horcrux is.” Regulus told Kreacher “So he thinks his plan for immortality is safe - he thinks that even if someone does kill him he has a backup. But he has forgotten one important thing.”

Kreacher was looking up at Regulus interestedly, his ears more perked up than they had been since he had escaped the cave.

“He had forgotten that house-elf magic is different and you escaped. So it is now up to us to find that Horcrux and destroy it, so Tom Riddle can be defeated once and for all.”

```

**Fall 1979**

Spring had come and gone and Regulus had graduated, far different than the brash young, Death Eater he has thought he would be, he was now filled with a quiet determination, to take down the Dark Lord.

As he had been rowed across the lake one last time looking at Hogwarts that had not quite been his home away from home, Regulus wondered if he would be able to make up with his brother. He hadn’t understood then everything Sirius had been saying about defeating the Dark Lord and he had never understood how Sirius could insist that the family that raised him could be wrong, but Regulus was starting to get it. He loved his mother, but her belief in Riddle was misplaced, he was not a great wizard but an evil, deeply flawed man. 

Summer came around and Regulus had created a duplicate locket, into which he placed a note for the Dark Lord whenever he would find it. He had done his research on the Inferi and the protections that Kreacher had described Riddle setting up in the cave, and even how to destroy a Horcrux, but there was precious little to be learned. He knew that he needed to somehow destroy the locket, the container for Riddles’s torn soul, but the only thing that the books described as a potential threat to Horcruxes was fiendfyre or basilisk venom. 

Fall had rolled on in, and the Black manor was covered in a beautiful layer of crimson orange and yellow leaves. Regulus kissed his mother on the cheek, pocketed the locket and then ordered Kreacher to take him to the cave. It was Halloween and he was hoping that Voldemort, distracted by the initiation of new Death Eater Recruits would not notice the locket’s absence for at least a day.

The reached the rocks and Regulus paid the blood price, slicing his hand with the silver knife Severus had given him. 

In the unnatural stillness of the cave, he and Kreacher sat in silence in the boat, watching the ghostly hands float up under the water as they moved towards the green glow. When the boat bumped against their destination Regulus handed Kreacher the locket and gave him his final orders.

“Kreacher, make me drink the potion, you are not allowed to drink it for me. When I have finished it, switch the fake locket with the Horcrux and then leave. Take the Horcrux and destroy it, try using my serpentine tentacula if you can find it”

Both Regulus and Krechure wept as the house-elf port goblet after goblet of the drink of despair down Regulus’s throat. The boy weeping as he recalled saying his goodbye’s tp all the important people in his life - his brother, his mother, Severus… and the house-elf for the master who had always been kind to him, who Kreacher knew he would be leaving behind in the cave to join the ranks of the Dark Lord’s undead. 

As he sank below the dark waters, caught by the inferi while trying to quench his thirst, Regulus smiled in satisfaction as he heard the crack of his house-elf apparating away. He knew Severus would never see it, but he liked to think the other boy might have appreciated his note to the Dark Lord -

_To the Dark Lord_  
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.  
R.A.B. 

As the green light faded away and water rushed into his lungs, Regulus’s only regret was that he never got to convince Severus to leave the Dark Lord. The last year and a half had been so lonely and… 

they would have been good… 

the two of them against... 

snake pit… 

together...

```

Kreacher was not able to find Regulus’s serpentine tentacula - Voldemort had destroyed it the day after Regulus’s initiation - he knew the risks.

It would have worked.

```

**January 1980**

During an interview in the Hog’s Inn, a young Death Eater overhears half a prophecy and rushes to tell his master of it. He is sallow-faced and greasy-haired, young and angry against the world and its cruelties and eager to wound, willing to murder a baby and his parents if it means that his chosen family, the Death Eaters will prosper.

Five months later he realizes he has made a dreadful mistake. 

The sallow-faced and greasy-haired now former-Death Eater betrays his so-called chosen family and begs Dumbledore to save the woman that he loves, and in return agrees to dedicate his life to the cause. It is a lonely road. The side of the light doesn’t trust him, they don't believe there is such thing as a reformed Death Eater, and the side of the dark are also wary - constantly looking for him to slip up.

Though he would never admit it snape now he wonders what happened to the boy who used to be his friend. He vanished almost a year ago, gone without a trace. Snape thinks to himself that Regulus may have been a good Death Eater, but maybe... he could have swayed him. Severus was almost positive he would have been able to convince Regulus that the Dark Lord was actually wrong. And then snape wouldn’t be so, so alone as he walked terrified, but willingly back into the snake’s den. 

```

_When the war ended it was violent. But there were no explosions or flashy battles. It involved the murder of a husband and wife, a woman but, miraculously, not her child on a quiet street, late at night, after a friend had betrayed them. When the war ended, the wizarding world celebrated, so much so that the Muggles noticed hundreds of owls flying in every direction, downpours of shooting stars and mysterious people in cloaks on street corners talking in hushed whispers of a boy who lived. But, when the war ended, very few people knew about the young but weary Death Eater who knew his job had not yet ended and there was really only the faintest whispers of the actions of a reformed Death Eater who had given his life for that of an elderly elf. _

_They would each end their lives alone and afraid, they each thought the other would never understand, and neither ever knew the other was thinking of them even after they grew apart and thus, I’m sure you can see the tragedy that befell these two boys who could have been the best of friends. _

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](silentorator.tumblr.com)!


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